Family Resemblance Part II
by Tanista2
Summary: Four years after the events in Part I Becky graduates from high school, then is kidnapped by Murdoc while MacGyver's away on assignment. #14 of Domestic Adventures (aka Mac & Becky AU).
1. Power of Two

_Recap of Part I_ : _In an AU where MacGyver was not an only child, he visits his older sister Allison and her family on Christmas Eve, 1985. The next morning he surprises his niece Becky, with whom he is especially close. She asks her parents if she could spend the summer with Mac in Los Angeles. He picks her up months later next June and they have a wonderful vacation together, mostly having fun except for the occasional assignments for the Phoenix Foundation. In August, a week before Becky has to return home, they receive a phone call informing them of her family's death in a car accident. After returning to Oregon for the funeral Mac and Becky discuss her future; he decides to become her legal guardian until she turns eighteen. They arrive back in L.A. to move into a new apartment chosen by Pete, which had already been visited by a certain assassin...  
_

* * *

-May/June, 1990-

A tall man with silver-white hair, trim mustache and wire-rimmed glasses stepped self-assuredly into the bank lobby, nodding at the security guards before heading straight for the desk belonging to one of the managers. " _Guten Tag_ ," he greeted in a thick German accent. "My name is Josef Braun, and I wish to see my safe-deposit box."

"Certainly, sir. May I see your key and some identification?" They were duly produced, the records checked, and soon he followed the manager into the fortified room where the safe-deposit boxes were kept. The box was found and placed on the table by the manager.

Once he was alone, he removed the glasses and placed them on the table- they were merely for show anyway. He wished he could remove the wig and mustache as well, but both were necessary for his current disguise. He unlocked the box and opened the lid, nodding with satisfaction at the assortment of currency, passports, and other necessary items stored for safekeeping. He had kept this box here in Los Angeles- under an assumed name, of course- for one reason, and one reason only.

Retirement. It was finally within reach. After so many years he felt he had endured enough indignities and injuries as a professional assassin for HIT that it was time to leave while on top, so to speak. He knew he had acquired enough money and capital by now- stashed in boxes and accounts all over the world- to settle someplace in comfortable anonymity. Perhaps he could have a garden, or even write music.

Well, he wanted to retire, anyway. Problem was, there was this one loose end he just couldn't seem to tie up no matter how well he'd planned his traps so far. It was frankly getting annoying. Now it was finally time to pull out all the stops, to rid himself of the nuisance once and for all.

He reached into the bottom of the box and pulled out a worn, plain file folder. Opening it he leafed through the contents, not bothering to read since he had already committed them to memory. There was an old factory on the outskirts of town he'd purchased years ago, saved for this very purpose. And there was an apartment he could rent to carry out his surveillance...

His gaze stopped at two pictures. One was of a tall, ruggedly handsome man with dark brown eyes, a friendly, open smile and light-brown hair that almost reached his shoulders in a shaggy cut; the other a petite young woman with features that were a softer, slightly rounded version of his, guileless blue eyes behind glasses, long reddish-brown hair and a sweet smile. In appearance they could pass for father and daughter, though actually they were uncle and niece. He knew their names, their family histories, their current accomplishments.

The man was the annoying loose end, the young woman merely bait for the trap.

"MacGyver," Murdoc crooned. "Dear little Rebecca. I shall see you far sooner that you can possibly expect."

* * *

On the opposite side of the city that same afternoon, the object of his obsession slouched on the couch at home- a modest two-story, three bedroom condo apartment- watching a hockey game on TV, his long legs propped on the coffee table and crossed at the ankles. The noise of the on-screen activity, however, could not drown out the sudden sounds of the front door slamming open and shut.

MacGyver lazily glanced up in the direction of the entrance hallway. "That you, Becky?" There was no reply except for footsteps hurrying up the stairs, the sound of another door slamming shut, then a muffled thump. He looked up at the ceiling and frowned in concern. _That has to be her up there. What's goin' on?_ _She's usually in a much better mood when she comes home._

He regarded the game for second, then shook his head _._ _Forget it. It's the end of the last period and the Kings are losing big anyway. I gotta get to the bottom of this._ He turned off the TV, stood up and stretched, then made his way upstairs.

When he came to the door to her room- unmarked except for a taped strip of paper with her name calligraphied at a local craft fair in purple and blue ink- he paused and put his ear against the panel, hearing the sound of muffled crying. He knocked and waited for an answer; when there was none, he tried again.

"Go away," said a sob-choked voice.

"Becky, it's me, Mac. What's goin' on?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"C'mon, just for a minute. Can I open the door, at least?"

After a short while he heard a heavy sigh. "All right."

MacGyver opened the door, regarding the books, papers, photos and other items that she had amassed over the past four years. A trio of cross-stitched fantasy pictures- one of her hobbies- were arranged over the dresser next to the door, while shelves beside the closet on the wall to his left held more books and a collection of dragon and fairy figurines. A desk for homework with its chair had been set up under the window to his right. The bed linens and curtains were in shades of green, dark purple and blue, setting off the cream-colored walls. His niece was sprawled on top of a comforter covering a full-sized bed that stood out from the wall opposite him into the middle of the room, clutching a pillow.

He offered a gentle smile. "Hey, Becky. You okay?"

Her cheeks glistened with tears as she looked up at him; he hadn't seen her so miserable since her family's funeral, four years ago. "Not really."

"Can I come in, or should I just keep standin' here?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah Unc, come in. You can even sit down, if you want."

"Thanks." He stepped inside and moved to the bed, setting himself down gingerly. There was an awkward silence for a while then he ventured, "You really sure you don't want to talk about it?"

Her frown deepened. "You wouldn't understand. You're a guy, and older than me."

"Hey, I've had my share of problems too, you know, and I talked about some of them with you. Even though I knew you probably wouldn't understand them, being a girl and younger than me," Mac teased lightly. "How about returning the favor, huh?"

He moved a little closer, reaching over to gently rub her back. "C'mon sweetheart, you can tell me," he coaxed in a softer voice. "You know I'll do whatever I can to help. So what happened at school today?"

She glanced at him, then heaved another heavy sigh. "I got dumped."

"What do you mean?"

She turned over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. "I mean I got dumped by Ben, the guy I've been going out with this semester. You remember, he came over a couple times with my other friends. He's in choir, one of the male soloists."

MacGyver remembered meeting him last month, one of those rare times he was home when her friends came over. Ben had curly dark hair with blue-green eyes and a charming smile. He seemed like a nice boy, but paid more than enough close attention to Becky to make him nervous; that was, he realized, one of the rare times he actually felt like her parent in a sense, and not merely her uncle.

Even though his status as her legal guardian had officially ended on her eighteenth birthday in February, there were times he still thought of his niece as a little girl. He freely admitted to himself that no matter how difficult the other challenges in his life got, her becoming a young woman- with all its implications- was most definitely one he was not even remotely ready to face yet.

 _I can deal with terrorists, assassins, pirates, arms dealers and drug cartels. No problem. So why is it that whenever Becky gets together with boys I start feeling so darn helpless?_

"He's only the second boyfriend I've ever had, you know."

He frowned. "The second?"

"Remember Luke?"

He did- tall with blue eyes, floppy blond hair and dimples. Older brother to her friend Marya. "He gave you your first kiss, right?"

"Yeah, he was really nice. We went out a few times, but then he graduated early last year and left for M.I.T. He promised he'd write, but I haven't heard from him." She sighed.

"Sorry to hear that."

"When Ben and I started rehearsing together for the Winter concert I thought he was cuter, smarter and more sensitive than any other guy in school; I fell for him pretty hard. And he _dumped_ me today, Unc! For a cheerleader of all things, and the prettiest, perkiest one in school at that. You know what he told me at lunch?" Her voice started to waver and tears again ran down her face. Without a word Mac reached over to the bedside table, pulled some tissues out of a box, and handed them to her.

Becky dabbed at the tears, then blew her nose loudly. "He...he said he wanted to go out with Cindy instead of me because she wanted to have more fun than I did. Can you believe that? He said I was boring. Well, he really didn't go right out and say it, but I knew that's what he was thinking. He was ready to be more intimate and I wasn't, so he said he didn't want to see me anymore."

"More intimate? What do you mean?"

She sat up and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Unc, I know how squeamish you get whenever I start talking about boys- or anything related to my body, for crying out loud. Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

Mac blanched. _Allison, why the heck didn't you ever warn me about all this? It was bad enough when she was fifteen and started having her periods_ _._ "Oh. _That_ kind of intimate."

"Yeah. Do you think that makes me boring?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Smart, definitely, but not boring." He reached over and started stroking her hair. "I'm really sorry you got dumped, and I do understand. Everybody's been there at some point in their lives, including me. It's just a part of growing up. Don't worry too much about it. You're intelligent, caring, and compassionate; I'm sure eventually there will be someone in your life who sees how very special you are, and ready to be intimate whenever _you_ want to be, not before. There's no need to rush on that, by the way." He smiled wryly. "I'm not ready to have my girl grow up too fast on me, you know?"

Mac scooted up to lean against the headboard and put his arm around her; with a small sigh she laid her head on his chest. "Hey, it's okay if you feel lonely right now. But you know you're never alone with me around, right?" She nodded faintly in reply. "I promise I won't dump you for another lady, no matter what."

She raised her head again to look at him with her own wry smile. "I didn't know you were my boyfriend, too," she teased. "I thought you were just my uncle."

"Well, I'm a boy," he said, eyes twinkling. "And I'm your friend, right? So I'm your boyfriend. Makes sense to me." Mac was glad to see the smile that came back to both her face and eyes. "I do love you, Becky, even if David or any other guy doesn't." He bent to kiss her forehead, then gently ruffled her hair. "Now, I just happen to know of a sure-fire cure for a broken heart. Why don't you go wash up in the bathroom and I'll make us my special hot chocolate with marshmallows. Okay?"

She blew her nose one final time, then nodded. "Okay. See you downstairs." He hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead again in reply, then got up off the bed. "Uncle Mac?"

Nearly out the door, he turned back to look at her. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for making me feel better."

He winked at her. "What else are uncles for?"


	2. Graduation Day

A month until graduation, and Becky simply could not take it any more. She angrily shoved her Trigonometry and Physics books off the bed. "Unbelievable," she muttered. "What's the point of studying this if I'm not gonna use it later?" Choosing her Advanced Spanish textbook instead, she soon immersed herself instead in the familiar rhythms of the language's grammatical structure.

There was a knock on her door about five minutes later and MacGyver poked his head inside. "Beck, you okay? I heard something fall."

"Come on in, Unc. Nothing's wrong; it's just all this darn homework." She gestured angrily at the textbooks and scattered pieces of paper on her floor. "As if I don't have enough to do already for senior year- college placement tests, application forms, exams. Why on earth do I still have to do all _this_ stuff?"

Mac folded his arms and leaned against the doorway, chuckling. "I know just how you feel. I remember having a few subjects that I couldn't wait to get rid of either. I thought graduation would never come."

"Really? What subjects?"

"French, music theory. Creative writing, too."

Becky rolled her eyes, then chuckled herself. She should have guessed. He was a scientist, not an artist like her; languages, music and writing came much easier to her than they probably had done for him when he was her age. "Honestly though, why the heck do I need to know this stuff? It's not like I'm going to major in math or the physical sciences in college."

Mac moved from the doorway to sit on the edge of her bed, picking up the fallen items on the way and placing them on the desk. "Yeah, but look at it this way. Even in the social sciences- which I know you're interested in- there are theories to test, data to collect and interpret. What you're learning now will help you to think logically later on."

She glanced over at the stack of books and papers and sighed. "You're probably right." The corner of her mouth turned up in a wry smile. "I mean, since your majors in science and engineering have proven to be pretty useful in your line of work. Right?"

"Well, havin' all that knowledge certainly hasn't hurt. So keep at it, you'll graduate soon enough. But for now, why don't you put all that away for a while and show me what you've got for your spring solo? I remember how excited you were when Mrs. Avery chose you to sing at both the spring concert and at the commencement ceremony."

"Sure." Becky rose from the bed, got her solo tape and put it in the tape deck of the radio/cassette player sitting on top of the dresser. Soon the music started and she began singing with a sweet clear voice, about living with an angel. She sang her heart out, since she had chosen her solo piece with her uncle especially in mind and planned to publicly dedicate it to him both at the spring concert and the graduation ceremony itself. When the last notes of the song died out, she resumed her place on the bed and waited for his reaction.

She was surprised to see tears in his eyes as he moved closer to her. "Rebecca Ellen, you're so much like your mother," MacGyver told her softly. "You even sing like her. That was beautiful. After hearing that, a whole country will need to be held hostage before I'd miss the concert. Not to mention your commencement."

"I think that's the first time I've ever heard you say my full name before."

He smiled and gave a self-conscious shrug. "Guess that shows you how moved I was by the song, huh? There's only one problem with it, though."

She frowned. "What's that?"

His expression turned serious. "It's not accurate. I do know there's an angel hanging around here. A very special one. But it's not me."

For a while all Becky could do was stare at him, trying to figure out the meaning of his words. Then she noted the smile curving up one corner of his mouth and the mischief twinkling within the intense gaze. She sighed, rolling her eyes at his gentle teasing. "Oh, you."

"Yeah," Mac laughed. "Me." His arms closed around her, pulling her into a warm embrace. "You're my angel, Beck."

She blushed, resting her head against his chest. "And you're mine, Unc."

* * *

Finally the long-awaited evening in early June arrived, and Becky found herself staring in disbelief at the full-length mirror as Nikki and Penny hovered around her seated form, applying the finishing touches to their makeover. Who was this beautiful young woman looking back at her, she wondered. She knew she wasn't unattractive, but not exactly a fashion plate either, especially when compared to Mac's past girlfriends and the two beautiful dark-haired women currently assisting her.

After having- and losing- two boyfriends so far, she honestly couldn't imagine there would be another guy out there who might be interested in her. __Is there anyone who'll love me for who I really am? Am I destined to be all alone in the world?__

She frowned at the direction her thoughts were going. _Get a grip, girl. Don't worry about what will or won't happen until it does, as Harry might say._ This was the most important night of her life so far, and not the time to start brooding about the future. She wasn't alone; she had her uncle and others who loved her, and they would always have her back no matter what.

She figured it was probably just a bad case of nerves- maybe so bad that even Mac's infamous 'ice cream cure' couldn't fix it- but she'd been through bouts of stage fright before, and always passed with flying colors. It was time to focus on the here and now.

Nevertheless the young woman found her hands were still nervously running over the dark blue satin of her graduation gown. "Guys, what's wrong with me? I've waited four years for this and now I'm scared to death of it."

"Oh Becky, relax," Penny said soothingly. "Everyone's nervous just before graduation, when they get shoved out into the cold, hard world with nothing but a high school diploma to protect them from the harsh-"

Nikki elbowed Penny in the ribs. "Leave her alone, will you? The poor girl's nervous enough already. You'll only make her worse." She tucked the French braid up in the quaking senior's cap. "Becky, don't worry about a thing. We'll always be here for you, especially MacGyver. You know he and I haven't always seen eye to eye on everything, but over the years I've noticed how very much he cares for you. You're the best, most precious thing in his life; I think as far as he's concerned, you're the daughter of his heart as well as his niece. This night is as important to him as it is to you."

"I know. He's all I've got left, since...oh, God!" Tears started to fall down her face as she suddenly realized that so much of her family- her parents, older brother and even Grandpa Harry, dead from a heart attack just a few months earlier- would not be present at the ceremony; only Mac would be there to witness. She loved him dearly, but missed everyone else so very much.

"Shhh." Nikki reached for a tissue. "Hey, don't cry. You'll be fine."

"She's right, Becky. It'll be okay, you'll see," Penny added earnestly. "I didn't mean to scare you like that. Sorry."

"It's okay," Becky replied, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue. "I know you guys mean well. I..I just never realized it would affect me this way, you know? I'll be fine." She smiled up at the two older women. Over the years they had become like a surrogate aunt and older sister, each providing their own advice and encouragement. _Probably,_ she thought, _like Mom would've if she were still alive._ "Thanks for everything, both of you. I mean it."

They smiled in return. "You're welcome," Nikki replied. "Let's get your makeup fixed, then go downstairs and collect the guys. It's almost time to go."

* * *

"Is Becky graduating from high school already, Mac?" Jack wondered. "Seems like only yesterday I first met her in the hangar, all wide-eyed and timid, hiding behind you."

"You mean, that night when you'd emptied the loft to get me to go to Central America with you? She was afraid, Jack, not timid; she didn't know what to make of the mustached lunatic who'd stolen all our stuff and dropped off a high beam on a rope just to scare me. She still thinks you're nuts in general. Every time I make it back after being conned into one of your crazy schemes, Becky tells me I should wrap you in duct tape and drop you into the middle of the Pacific."

"That wounds me, Mac. Really. After all I've done for the two of you over the past four years, don't I deserve at least _some_ gratitude? I mean, helping to take care of a teenage girl is no easy task."

Pete laughed. "Dalton, your idea of 'helping' is in serious need of redefinition, if you think it includes freeloading and endangering MacGyver's life on a regular basis. I for one think he's done an excellent job as Becky's guardian."

"Thanks, Pete. Not that I've had to do much for her that way in any official sense, besides signing permission forms for school activities and submitting annual reports to the courts. Gotta admit, though, it was a weird feeling when she turned 18 and I realized I wasn't needed as her guardian anymore." He smiled wistfully. "Think I'm gonna miss being her dad, even it was only for a few years. She grew up so fast, you know?"

"Hmmpf," muttered Jack. "Well, at least I make sure there's enough food around. You've got a growing kid here, after all. Anyone need another drink? I know I do," he added, rising and heading for the kitchen.

Mac checked his watch. "Wonder what's taking them so long? Becky's gotta get there in time to join the rest of her class before the ceremony begins. How much makeup does she need to wear for this, anyway?"

"Here she is, MacGyver," Nikki's voice came drifting down the stairs. "There's no need to be so impatient." Mac and Pete looked up to see the three women descending and nearly choked on their drinks at the sight of Becky, fully dressed in the traditional cap and gown over a purple dress and looking- there was no other word for it, both men thought- lovely.

Jack came in from the kitchen at the same time, dropping his on the floor. "Hey Mac, I thought you already graduated."

"He did, Jack. Unlike _some_ people I could mention," she teased the pilot good-naturedly. "It's me under all this. Or at least I hope it is, anyway. Since Penny and Nikki gave me this makeover for tonight I hardly recognize myself." She smiled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. The three men continued to stare at her, mouths agape. Becky frowned. "C'mon guys, what is it? Is there something wrong with me? What's going on?" Her face flushed, clearly embarrassed and puzzled by the lack of response.

"Well, say something, you guys!" Penny demanded after a few more minutes of stunned silence. "Calm her down, do _something_ to reassure her! She's a nervous wreck." Nikki nodded her agreement, then pointedly eyed the pictures of Becky's family and looked directly at Mac.

He nodded at her in wordless thanks then went over to the soon-to-be-graduate, taking her smaller hands in his. "Sorry for staring like that, Becky. You...you just remind me so much of Allison tonight."

"And I was marveling how much you look like Mac," Jack chimed in. "Quite the resemblance."

"There's nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. You're absolutely beautiful," her uncle continued, bending to place a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Don't worry about a thing. Your solo's gonna be terrific. And you know everyone else will be there in spirit."

"I know. It's just that- oh, never mind. Let's go. I can't be late for the ceremony, after all. But clean up after yourself first, Jack. I don't want a juice stain on the carpet." Everyone else exchanged knowing smirks as the disgruntled pilot picked up the glass and went to fetch paper towels from the kitchen.

* * *

Later at the high school, just before the class was about to receive their diplomas, Becky was called up with the other seniors in the choir to join the rest of the group for a few songs. Before her solo started she found her uncle in the crowd and looked him in the eyes as she spoke. "This song is dedicated to someone very special in my life. Uncle Mac, you're my somebody. You're my angel." She closed her eyes and began to sing. She imagined that they were alone together, like a few weeks ago at home, and let her voice soar with the memory of their shared love. The crowd erupted into loud applause as the song ended, and even though Becky couldn't hear his voice she could see his bright smile and that was enough.

When her full name was announced by the principal- Rebecca Ellen Grahme- she approached the stage, beaming but quaking inside; this was the moment she had been waiting for, it seemed, all her life. As she accepted her diploma Becky could have sworn she saw _nine_ people in the crowd cheering for her instead of only five- her parents, Chris and Harry along with Mac and the others- but when she squinted her eyes and looked again, they were gone.

* * *

Once the last diploma was handed out, the principal made some closing remarks and the graduates cheered, tossing their caps into the air in celebration. "Wasn't Becky's solo wonderful?" Penny enthused as everyone stood. "You can tell how hard she worked on that song. The others were really nice too. Right, Jack?"

"Definitely, Penny. Voice like an angel."

"Knowing how she feels about you it's no surprise she dedicated that solo to you, Mac," Nikki commented. "She looked so accomplished and mature there on the stage, singing with the choir."

"Becky's really come a long way from when the four of us first met her that summer, hasn't she?" asked Pete. "You must be so proud of her, Mac."

MacGyver grinned. "She did great on those songs, didn't she? You bet I'm proud, Pete."

"Hey, guys!" Becky came up behind them after talking with her friends, still in her gown and carrying her cap along with a cover bound in blue with gold lettering. With a radiant smile she opened it, showing off the diploma with her full name and all relevant phrases in the traditional Gothic type with the school's seal. "Taa-daa! Not bad, huh?"

They all laughed. "Congratulations, sweetheart." Mac stepped forward, kissing her cheek and enveloping her petite form in a huge embrace. "You did a terrific job. I knew you'd make it." He released her, allowing the others to offer their compliments in turn.

 _Allison, I really wish you'd been here to see this,_ he thought, blinking at the tears unexpectedly forming in his eyes. _And I think I felt you were, in a way- you, Mike, Chris, Harry. Becky_ _'s all grown up now. I couldn't be more proud of her, and I know you would be too._

He couldn't believe almost four years had passed since his niece had moved in with him. She was so shy, quiet and unsure of herself back then, but time and experience had transformed her into a confident, competent and vibrant young woman. _Where the heck did the time go?_

"Unc, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Becky. I'm fine."

Mac noted her searching, skeptical look but said nothing more. He knew she didn't believe him but had decided not to press further. If he wanted to talk about it with her later he would, as had happened many times in the past. His heart fell to his feet when he realized how much he would miss their discussions- and so many other things about her- when she finally enrolled in college. _What would I do without you?_

"Okay, time for Chinese food!" Jack joyously announced, then dragged everyone back out to the parking lot and Becky's favorite restaurant.

* * *

Through his binoculars Murdoc watched the group climb into their vehicles and leave the high school, obviously headed for some sort of celebration. He briefly considered following- spoiling the party might be fun, after all- but decided not to play his hand just yet. There were preparations that needed to be finished before he was able to make his move, including visiting a certain apartment the next day.

 _Enjoy your niece's achievement now while you can, MacGyver,_ he thought as he started his car. _I'm coming for her soon enough. I can't wait to savor your anguish at her suffering by my hands as I win our little game and destroy you once and for all._

* * *

The celebratory dinner at Fong Loo's that night was wonderful, filled with great food and enjoyable conversation. Toasts were made, pictures taken, presents and cards opened. Pete even gave an impromptu speech, making the graduate blush at the praise. There was a lot of laughter and everyone truly enjoyed themselves, but occasionally over the course of the evening Becky would notice MacGyver watching her, an odd, almost wistful, smile on his lips. Twice she asked what he was thinking about but he merely shrugged in reply and changed the topic.

When the party was over Mac and Becky returned alone to the apartment. Coming downstairs in her pajamas she saw her uncle sitting on the couch, back in t-shirt and jeans. _Now,_ she thought, _it's finally time to find out what's going on with him_.

"What's on your mind, Unc? You seemed a little distracted during dinner." She joined him on the couch. "C'mon, you can talk to me, you know that. We've always been honest with each other. That's one of the things I like the most about our relationship."

"Yeah Becky, I know. Sometimes I just look at you and wonder why I didn't even want kids a few years ago. Then all of a sudden I became a dad, and now I won't be anymore."

"Well, technically that actually happened back in February," she noted with a wry smile, "when you turned in the final report to the courts as my guardian."

"You're enrolling at UCLA in the fall," he continued. "Between that and my assignments we may not have any more free time to spend together. You may even want to move out, find your own place. I want you to follow your dreams, but I honestly don't know what I'll do without you."

Becky took his hand and said, "Hey, you know I'll always be here, in my heart if not in the flesh. We'll at least have the entire summer to spend together, right? But frankly I don't know what I'd do without you either, Uncle Mac. You've always been there for me when I needed you most, and I don't know how I'll manage on my own. I don't think I'm ready to move out just yet."

MacGyver reached over and gently stroked her cheek with his long fingers as he softly replied, "Becky, I love you. I'm so proud of what you've accomplished, from all the good grades and the awards from choir competitions to the band you've helped put together with the friends you've made here. I know your family's proud of you, too. They were there in spirit at the commencement. I'm sure I felt their presence- Allison, Michael, even Chris. Harry, too. Everyone was there for you tonight." Becky was startled when he said that. She knew her parents and brother would be there on the most important night of her life no matter where their spirits resided, but had never thought until then that Mac would believe it as well.

Tears came to her eyes as he continued, "You've become such an important part of my life now, but I think we'll both be okay in the fall." He bent down and brushed his lips against her other cheek. "No matter what happens, we'll take care of each other. Like we have for the past four years."

Becky looked up at MacGyver, taking in all the love and pride showing in his deep brown eyes, then hugged him with all her might. "Oh Unc, I love you so much. Thanks for helping me through the last few years. I honestly don't think I could've made it without you."

"Of course you would've made it. You know that. I'm just glad I could be here to help you. Now get to bed, okay? It's really late, and I know your friends are picking you up first thing in the morning for an all-day graduation party."

"Yeah," she replied. "At Donnie's house- her dad's a big-time movie producer now. It's got two swimming pools, rooms just for games and dancing and watching videos, and everything. Then later we're all going to the beach."

"Sounds like fun. So get some sleep, already. Even though I'm officially no longer your guardian, you'll still let me be parental every now and then, right?" He grinned and reached over, playfully ruffling her hair.

Becky rolled her eyes. "Yes, dad."

He chuckled, kissing her forehead. "Good night, princess. Sweet dreams."

"You too, Unc. Good night." They shared one last embrace before she went upstairs to her bedroom. The evening had been amazing, full of love, laughter and surprises. Already she was looking forward to what the rest of her life might hold.


	3. Sinister Purpose

"It has a full bathroom with toilet, sink, and shower, a kitchen with all modern appliances, and a balcony here on this level- you can get there through the French doors at the other end of the living room- where you can have plants, outdoor furniture or whatever you like outside. Most of my tenants do like to extend their living space outside, particularly during the warmer months..."

The landlady let her voice trail off. It was obvious her prospective new tenant was not really all that interested in the balcony's decorating potential or in any other of the apartment's many features. His attention seemed more focused on something outside than on what she was saying.

"Mr. MacInnes?" she ventured. "Are you still interested in renting the apartment?"

"Hmm?" The man turned around, absently brushing away a lock of sandy-brown hair that threatened to fall into his dark eyes. "Oh yes, madam, I'm quite interested in the apartment," he told her in a British-accented voice. "I think it will be quite suitable for my needs while I'm in the city. You'll be wanting first and last month's rent, I assume," he added as he pulled out a wallet. "I'll just pay you now and then come and sign the necessary paperwork later on today after I've finished making my other arrangements. I trust that's all right with you, madam?"

After the landlady had left, the man- who currently went by the name "MacInnes" but preferred to called Murdoc- stepped out onto the balcony and returned to studying the view, paying particular attention to the other apartments across the street. Taking a compact pair of binoculars from a jacket pocket, he contemplated his view inside the first floor of one particular apartment, where he knew a certain annoying troubleshooter lived with his niece.

"Yes," he murmured to himself, "I'm certain this arrangement will be more than satisfactory for my current needs."

* * *

"Oh Pete, what would you do without me?" Becky laughed as she gave Pete a stack of reports that she had finally finished typing for him. Several weeks had passed since her graduation; while the free time so far had been spent mostly relaxing and hanging out with friends, she still didn't mind helping out at the Foundation when needed. "Do you need anything else done?"

"I don't think so right now, but-" The phone rang. "Thornton... What?...Are you sure? How did you find out?...Well, yes of course, I understand...All right, all right. He's on his way...You'll be waiting for him, then. That's fine."

She waited patiently by his desk during the call. Having spent the past four years around Mac's friends, she could clearly interpret most of their expressions; from the look on Pete's face she knew her uncle would be needed for something very important. "Do you need to talk to Uncle Mac?"

"Yeah I do, Becky. The Guatemalan police just got an anonymous tip about a drug cartel and a large shipment that's scheduled to leave the country soon. Mac's helped them before in stopping the cartel, and they sure could use his aid again now. It looks like he might be gone for a while this time, though."

"Well, it's not like that hasn't happened before. Last I heard he's down in the electronics lab; I'll go get him." Becky left the office, feeling a little sad. Even after four years she still worried about Mac when he was called away on assignment, and never relaxed completely until he was back home safe and sound.

* * *

"Okay, it looks like the circuit boards are workin' like they should, but we still gotta do something about those load tolerances," MacGyver said to the lab technician standing beside him, both examining a printout of test results. "Maybe add a couple more resistors somewhere."

"I'll get right on it," the tech replied. He looked up and noticed Becky standing quietly nearby. "Looks like you've got a visitor."

Mac turned around and smiled warmly. "Hey, sweetheart. Didn't hear you come in. Is it time to go already?"

"Pete just got a call for you. He needs you back upstairs right away. It's important." She relayed the rest of the information.

"Then let's get outta here." He nodded a farewell to the others in the lab and together they headed back up to Pete's floor. As they walked through the outer office he asked Becky, "Think you'll be all right by yourself?"

"Yeah, Unc. I'll be fine. You know I'm more than used to taking care of myself whenever you're gone. But I'll miss you," she said softly as she hugged him.

"I'll miss you too," he murmured as he returned the hug before stepping into the office. He always felt like he was never around enough for her, but he knew she understood just how important his work for Phoenix was to him. MacGyver silently promised himself to ask Pete to arrange something very special for her as part of the bonus for this latest assignment.

* * *

It was fully dark outside by the time Murdoc had set up the telescope, camera and remote listening equipment to his satisfaction, making sure he could see and hear everything that went on in the apartment across the street. Peering through the telescope, he noticed a tall man putting clothes and toiletries into a well-used, leather travel bag in what was obviously his bedroom and a petite young woman coming in and leaning against the foot of the bed. Murdoc then trained a thin beam of red light through the window and activated the listening device hidden in the room. He nodded to himself in satisfaction as he listened to their conversation.

 _Excellent,_ he thought. _Everything's going according to plan. Soon he'll be gone, and all I have to do is wait until the perfect moment when she's completely alone and I can grab her. Then my trap will be set, from which neither of them will be able to escape. MacGyver will finally get the fate he so richly deserves, and then so will I._

* * *

"So, you any got plans for the summer yet?" MacGyver asked Becky as he packed.

"Well now that I'm no longer going out with Ben, I'd thought you and I would be able to spend some time together. I was even hoping we could go up the coast for a few days and stay somewhere this week, but since you've got that emergency assignment I guess I'll have to think of something else to do."

He watched her pick up a turquoise T-shirt, unfold it and hold it up against her, chuckling as it dropped down to almost cover her knees. Even after her growth spurt all his stuff still looked so big on her. __She may not be my little girl anymore but she'll always be petite, just like her mom,__ he thought with a smirk. _ _And that, as Harry might say, is the long and the short of it.__

"I'll probably call Katie and the others and get the band together so we can practice," she continued. "I hope we can get a few more performances in this summer before we all go our separate ways. I don't know if anyone else has heard from the schools they applied to yet; I'm probably the only one in the group who's heard from UCLA."

He took the T-shirt from her hands, refolded it, and placed it in the bag. "That reminds me. Pete told me earlier today he's put the paperwork in motion to get you that scholarship for the children of Phoenix employees. He said that even though I was only your legal guardian and not really a parent, we're still eligible to apply for it. We won't hear from the selection committee for at least a few weeks, but he thinks you'll probably be approved. And, depending on your major, you might even be able to get an internship at Phoenix when the time comes."

"That sounds great, Unc. I guess it really pays to have connections. So that means we might end up working together?" she wondered. Then her mouth turned up in a wry grin. "Of course, it may not be wise to put us together. I know I don't have even half of that fabulous talent you have for making something out of nothing. I'd probably freeze or panic during a dangerous situation and ruin the entire mission."

"Oh, I wouldn't know about that, Becky. You've been a big help several times when I needed it." He smiled fondly to himself, remembering the escapades they had shared together over the years. "You just have to have a little faith in yourself, more knowledge about stuff, and a bit more courage. Remember the Tarantino trial, a couple years back when you testified? Just like then you'll do all right when the time comes, you'll see."

She turned to him in surprise. "You really think so, Unc? I didn't know you really had that much faith in me. I'm amazed."

He zipped up the travel bag, then turned and gave her a warm hug. "Yeah, I do have that much faith in you," he said softly. "Always have, and always will." He let go of her and grabbed the bag, moving to the door and setting it down. "Now, since I've got an early plane to catch, I'd better get some sleep now. If all goes well, I'll be home as soon as possible and we can go to the beach or do whatever else you want. Okay?"

"Okay. And don't forget you owe me a good deal of quality time when you get back, you hear? I'll even talk to Pete and make sure you get the chance to do just that. I'm his favorite assistant, after all- I know he'll do whatever I ask."

"Don't doubt that for a second." He joined in her laughter, then obligingly bent down as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.

"Good night, Uncle Mac, and be careful."

"Aren't I always?" He smiled and returned the kiss. "Good night, sweetheart. See you when I get back," He closed the door behind her and started preparing for bed. It was a good feeling to know that Becky was always there for him whenever he returned home after a tough assignment; already he was looking forward to her customary warm smile, affectionate embrace and willing audience to hear about his latest adventure.

 _ _For crying out loud,__ he suddenly realized. _ _I'm still home- not even out of the country yet- and already I miss her. Is that weird or what?__

 _He_ shook his head at the irony as he slipped in between clean sheets and reached for the bedside light. Four years ago he didn't think he needed anyone else in his life, and now he couldn't imagine a day without her.

Then in the darkness Mac realized something else. His work at the Phoenix Foundation, as well as all the other various other adventures and mysteries he found himself involved in- was his way of making the world a better place.

But Becky was the reason he did it.

The thought brought a smile to his face as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

After MacGyver's room went dark, Murdoc turned his attention towards the young woman as she entered her own room and prepared for bed herself. He thoughtfully studied her appearance before she closed the window curtains and made a few minor adjustments to his master plan, then shook his head abruptly to chase a stray thought away. However, it continued to annoy him. There was something about her- the niece of his chief nemesis, of all people- that tugged at a set of memories and emotions he'd thought were long since buried and forgotten.

Involuntarily a single word- a name- escaped his lips: "Ashton."


	4. Caught

Becky sighed as she unlocked the apartment door and went inside a few days later. The apartment seemed very big and very lonely without her uncle's presence. Pete had even offered to stay with her for a while after work, but she declined, being used to Mac's periodic absences over the past four years. As she set her purse on the little table just inside the door she noticed a man with sandy-brown hair and dark eyes sitting in the living room, smiling as he pointed a gun at her. "Greetings, dear Rebecca. How very nice to meet you in person at last."

"Who are you?" she cried, ready to grab the mace she kept in her purse if she had to defend herself.

"Oh, I don't believe we've ever formally met before, but your uncle and I are very well...acquainted. Remember who left you the note welcoming you to L.A. after your family died so tragically?"

Her mind blanked briefly, then remembered how her uncle's face had turned pale when he first read the note. This was the legendary assassin who kept trying- and failing- to kill Mac and his friends in elaborate traps; each time, she recalled, his body was never found. "You're Murdoc," she whispered, her voice filled with horror and fear.

"That's quite correct, Miss Grahme, and I need you to come with me. Your uncle and I have an old argument to settle."

Becky turned and made to run, but Murdoc caught her just as she reached the front door. "I knew that if you were anything like MacGyver you'd put up a fight, so I brought this. Pleasant dreams, my dear." He held up the syringe just so she could see it, then jabbed it in her neck.

The assassin's grinning face was the last thing Becky saw as she swiftly passed into darkness.

* * *

Murdoc felt the young woman go limp in his arms and smiled. He hefted her slight body and carried her out of the building to the waiting van, pleased he had chosen to abduct her at a time when there was very little activity outside and no one to witness. When he returned inside the apartment he placed a videocassette tape and small paper bag on top of the TV, then regarded the rest of the room. With a wicked grin he fell to trashing everything in sight, gleefully knocking and throwing around furniture and assorted items.

 _Yes, MacGyver, I was here. I took your niece and now I'm vandalizing your home. Come and get me, if you dare. Come and solve my obstacle course, or watch me take the life of your beloved princess if you fail- before I take your life as well, of course. Then when you're gone I can finally retire with a clear conscience._

* * *

"Don't move."

Head pounding, Becky gradually regained consciousness to find a gun pressed to her temple. She slowly opened her eyes and the unexpected brightness of factory-grade lights pierced her vision. Her glasses seemed to be missing, but she could catch multiple reflections bouncing off a bank of monitors directly in front of her. Gingerly turning her head to the left and the right only revealed one plain office door- glass on the top half, painted yellowish wood on the bottom- on each side. A pair of male hands roughly forced her head forwards again to look at him and she blinked up into the somewhat handsome face of her kidnapper.

 _Calm down, girl,_ she thought to herself. _Won't do any good to panic. Uncle Mac's told you what this man's capable of doing. And you_ _ **don't**_ _want to get him angry at you!_

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice steady.

"Never mind. You're going to go back to sleep now."

The sharp sting of a hypodermic needle in her arm made her jump. Murdoc held her firmly in place, pressing her head back into a dusty pile of blankets.

"Just relax, Miss Grahme. Relax. This will all be over soon."

Becky fought the darkness, but there was nothing more she could do. Within moments she was again unconscious.

* * *

Drifting in the formless state between asleep and awake, Becky turned awkwardly, her mind fuzzy. _God, what an awful nightmare. I gotta tell Uncle Mac about this. Murdoc came at me with a gun, stuck a huge needle in me and..._

 _Hey, where's my pillow?_

The young woman cracked her eyes open, realizing with a half-start that she didn't have a pillow. Or a bed, for that matter. She was lying on top of a pile of old, scratchy blankets in a darkened room, lit only by the faint glow of security monitors.

 _So it wasn't a nightmare after all. Murdoc really kidnapped me._

Becky found that she didn't want to wake up. She didn't want to think about how cold and uncomfortable she was. She also didn't want to think about never being found. Most of all she didn't want to think about what Murdoc was likely to do if her uncle didn't solve whatever traps the assassin had created to torment him this time.

Her head started to spin- making it impossible to think more anyway- and she drifted back off to sleep.

* * *

Murdoc welcomed her back with a huge grin as she groggily shook herself fully awake an unknown amount of time later. "Well, well, well. So wonderful of you to finally join me. I almost feared I had given you too much sedative."

It took a few moments for Becky to recognize her kidnapper, but as soon as she recalled the memories of the past few hours she began to scream; a sharp hand across her face reduced the noise she was making to feeble sobs. Then oddly enough the hand that had just hit her quickly moved to comfort her crying and wipe the blood from her lip. "Shhh, Ashton. It's all right, don't cry. He won't hit you again. I won't let him hurt you anymore. I'm here."

"Who's Ashton?" She thought hopefully that he had kidnapped the wrong girl, and that he would realize that he had made a mistake and let her go. "My name's Becky."

Murdoc suddenly realized what he was doing and got up quickly. "I know exactly who you are, my dear," he said angrily. "I haven't been spying on you for weeks just for the fun of it, after all! Of course, the end result of all this will be quite enjoyable." He produced a set of manacles for her hands and feet, grinning as her eyes widened in fear.

"What are you gonna do with me?"

"Nothing, for the moment. But soon enough you'll be bait for my little trap. One your uncle is sure to fail this time. Now shut up." He fixed the manacles to her hands and feet, then slapped her again for emphasis and stomped over to the window.

Her face still stinging from the impact of the blow, Becky slumped against the pile of blankets, sighed, and touched her chained hands to her forehead. _God, what a day this turned out to be!_


	5. Hero

"Why do I keep doing this to myself?" MacGyver muttered under his breath as he boarded the plane and sat down in his assigned seat after saying good-bye to the Guatemalan police. He was always risking his life for the Phoenix Foundation, and even though the drugs had never made it out of the country, he had once again almost faced certain death and it was starting to get a little old.

He idly wondered what Becky would say if he told her he was thinking of resigning again. He buckled himself in, closing his eyes as he leaned back, planning to sleep for the rest of the flight.

A flight attendant shook him awake hours later. "Sir. Sir, could you wake up please? We're approaching LAX, and I need you to straighten your seat, please." She flashed him a phony smile as she stood from her almost-kneeling position and went to wake other passengers.

Mac looked out the window and saw the airport steadily coming nearer. He wasn't as tired now, but he still looked forward to relaxing on the couch at home instead of a rock-hard airplane seat or muddy jungle floor. _Can't wait to get back to a bed where snakes won't be serving as foot-warmers, either._

* * *

Forty-five minutes later he finally pulled the jeep into the parking lot beneath the complex. _Ah, home sweet home, sweet home. And not a moment too soon._ He unlocked the door and entered the apartment, almost tripping over the contents of Becky's purse sprawled on the floor as soon as he stepped inside. _What the heck?_

He set his travel bag down and went cautiously into the living room. He turned on a few lights and gasped at the extent of the damage throughout the main floor- furniture overturned, random objects smashed or scattered all over the floor. "Oh man," he whispered. He called again, louder, "Becky? Where are you, sweetheart? You okay?" There was no answer and he frowned. _Something's not right. Where is she?_

He looked over at the top of the TV set and saw a paper bag next to a videocassette tape. No labels, but he would bet his pocketknife they were left by whomever had Becky. He glanced in the bag and set it back down again, puzzled; inside were three sugar cookies, nothing else. With trembling hands, he turned on the TV, put the video in the VCR and felt his face pale when a very familiar scarred face appeared on the screen.

"Greetings MacGyver, and congratulations. By now you've figured out I have your niece Rebecca- that's part one. Now all you have to do is figure out part two, what I've done with her. As you watch this, a signal is being sent to me to let me know what time you get this message, just to give you a sporting chance. As of now, you have six hours to find her. She could be anywhere in the world, or your sweet little niece could be right under your nose. Needless to say, I'm sure you can imagine what will happen if you _don't_ find her. Good luck."

Mac yanked the tape out of the machine, grabbed the paper bag, and ran out the door back to his jeep. He drove to the Foundation as fast as the law would allow, racked with guilt. Murdoc had said four years ago in his note he would come get her and Mac had forgotten all about it.

 _ _I should've known better than to believe he'd finally leave me alone after the last time,__ he thought. __Why didn't I take any precautions? Why on earth did I think he wouldn't use her in his twisted schemes to kill me? Becky could die at the hands of that madman, and it'd be all my fault. Heck, it already_ _ **is**_ _my fault._ _

* * *

Jack was flirting with one of the secretaries in the outer office when the doors opened and MacGyver strode quickly through, stopping only when the pilot approached him. "Hey pal, you're back! Have a good time?" He reached to give his best friend a hug and slap on the back but stepped back when he got a good look at the anger and determination set in every line of his face. "Mac, you okay?"

The taller man said nothing but merely shook his head in reply. _Man, if something's got MacGyver ticked off like this then it must be pretty bad._ Jack followed him to Pete's office and through the doors, ready to offer whatever assistance he could provide.

"MacGyver, how did it go? Everything all right?" The Director of Operations got up to offer further greetings, but stopped in his tracks at his friend's enraged expression. "What's wrong?"

Mac firmly shut the door, then faced the two men. "Murdoc's got Becky." The words were forced out, as if he was not sure he could control the emotions underlying his voice.

"He's _what?_ " Pete and Jack exclaimed at the same time, eyes wide.

"You heard me. Murdoc's back, and he kidnapped my princess! He's got Becky and I only have about six hours to find her. He's using her as bait, I'm sure of it. It's me he's after. I forgot he'd eventually come for her, and it's all my fault!"

"What's in the bag? I smell sugar." Jack took the bag from Mac's limp hand and peered inside.

"It's a message from Murdoc. Just a couple cookies and a videotape."

"Now there's a gentleman. Steals your kid niece, but feeds ya. How polite."

"No, it's a clue to where he took her. He's keeping Becky somewhere in Los Angeles, he'd have no reason to take her anywhere else. I can't figure out anything more than that right now."

"What does the tape say? Does he give any other clues?" Pete asked, his mood more businesslike upon hearing the name of their mutual nemesis mentioned. He punched the intercom button on the phone and snapped, "Penny, bring a TV in here!"

"Call Nikki too," Jack suggested. "She can have the lab do a rush job on analyzing the cookies. No telling what Murdoc put in those."

A few minutes later Penny brought in the requested equipment on a cart, more than a little annoyed at being shouted at. She accepted Pete's quiet apology, then noticed Mac's stricken expression. "What's wrong with MacGyver?" she whispered to Jack.

"Murdoc kidnapped Becky," he replied. "If Mac can't find her within six hours, she's history."

Her face paled, obviously remembering her own experience with the cunning, ruthless, and probably insane assassin. "Oh, poor Becky," she said sadly. "I hope she'll be all right."

Nikki soon arrived, accepting the paper bag after a quiet conference with Pete. Then she approached the troubleshooter, carefully placing a hand on his leather-clad arm. "We're here for you," she said softly. "Whatever you need."

"Thanks," Mac replied, his voice equally soft. He gave her a gentle smile as he briefly placed his hand on hers. "I really appreciate it." She patted his arm and left.

They turned the TV on and put the tape in the VCR. Jack watched MacGyver out of the corner of his eye as he abruptly turned on his heel- obviously having no further use for the video- and followed him to the window. "Don't worry, Mac. We'll find Becky soon. She's a tough kid, and a smart one too. I'm sure she can handle herself around Murdoc."

Mac looked at him, the merest hint of a smile on his lips. "I really hope so, Jack. I know Becky can take care of herself. But even though she no longer needs me as her guardian, she's still my princess, you know? If he's harmed her in any way..." His jaw tightened and his voice trailed off, training his dark, intense gaze out the window again, his thoughts clearly very far away.

Jack returned to Pete and Penny, answering their quizzical expressions with a silent shrug. They both nodded their understanding and resumed searching the video for clues, all three concerned for the well-being of their friend as well as that of his kidnapped niece. _We gotta find Becky fast before anything happens to her, the poor kid,_ the pilot thought with a frown as he watched the assassin on the screen. _Or Mac will never,_ _ **ever**_ _forgive himself. Damn you, Murdoc! Why can't you leave us alone already?_


	6. Sympathy for the Devil

Murdoc paced restlessly in front of the window, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his nemesis. He knew MacGyver was clever and quick on his feet, but even so it seemed to be taking an unusually long time for him to be figuring things out. _Perhaps the clues I left behind weren't quite as obvious as I'd thought..._

"So why am I here?" The sweet, soft voice of his captive cut through his thoughts. He turned towards her, noting the bruises glowing red against her pale skin with a frown. "What do you want with me? Whatever did I do to you?"

"My dear Rebecca, it's nothing I have against you. It's something I must do for your uncle. He has to know what it is like to lose a loved one. He must hurt as I have hurt. He has to know."

"But he _does_ know! All of his family is dead except for me! Why do you have to make him hurt again, why? Why do you hate him so much?"

"Miss Grahme, this is a man's argument, meant only for men to fight. Stay out of it. A gentle young woman such as yourself should not become mixed up with such atrocities."

She threw him a glare; obviously his patronizing tone was starting to get on her nerves. _Good,_ he thought. _She's still got some fire in her after being beaten. Just like Ashton._ "He's my uncle! Do you honestly think I'll just sit here while you-"

"Shut up!" Murdoc struck her hard, reopening the wound on her lip. "I believe I told you to be quiet and stay out of this. You're only a tool, a pawn in my plan to bring my enemy down."

He stared at her bleeding lip and the fear in her blue eyes and thought once again of Ashton. He was turning into his father, hitting whatever was nearest when something went wrong; he would never be free of the old man's influence, even after so much time had passed.

* * *

 _-Liverpool, England. 1951-_

 _"All right, who moved my tools?"_

 _The young boy trembled at the belligerent tone of voice. Coming from anyone but his father, it might have been a perfectly reasonable question. He swore under his breath as he heard the heavy tread of his father's workboots heading into the house._

 _From his place at the cooker, he stared across the kitchen to where his younger sister Ashton stood motionless by the kitchen table, a piece of silverware dangling from her hand. She didn't look back. There was a time when they could escape from their parents' endless arguments by comforting each other under the bed. But there was no longer any chance to escape around here since their mother died and they were left to take care of things at home. The boy stirred the thin soup that was their dinner and waited for the inevitable as George Murdoc staggered into the kitchen._

 _Maybe it was time to fight back, the boy thought. It wasn't likely he would, though. George Murdoc was his father, no matter what kind of monster he was, and the only other family member left. The boy also knew that if he left home, their father would most likely take it out on his sister, despite her young age. He would take any beating without hesitation if he could save Ashton from his father's brutal form of discipline._

 _"Somebody's used my bleedin' hammer." His father swung the hammer in his hand like a club. "You know how I feel when someone uses my bleedin' things without my permission, boy." He was a big man and strong, with muscles gained by working in the Liverpool shipyards, helping to rebuild Britain's heavy industry after the war. And, the boy knew well, he was also a loud-mouthed, uneducated brute of a man._

 _The old man paused for a minute, waiting for a confession. There was total silence, punctuated only by his raspy breath, already smelling of cheap ale from the corner pub._

 _The boy hoped he would only hit them a couple times and leave them alone. Fat chance of that happening, though, if he knew his father. His sister whimpered and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her dress._

 _One of the kitchen table's legs had almost broken in half a week ago, during one of his father's recent outbursts. When he was asked to fix it the other day the old man had erupted into a familiar litany of words: "I spend all day at work, earning money to clothe and feed you both, and the first thing you want me to do when I get home is work some more?! I don't have time to pick up after you two lazy sods!"_

 _The boy had finally had to mend the leg when his father was with his friends at the local pub. His father was spending a lot of nights at the pub these days. But he hadn't been careful enough- probably hung it back on the hook at the wrong angle or disturbed the dust that covered the workbench. George never really used his tools; he would just go to the workshop out back from time to time to make sure no one else had touched them. He had always been very tetchy about what he considered to be his exclusive property._

 _"Answer me!" his father demanded as he slapped him full across the face. At least he had hit him with the hand that was not holding the hammer. The force of the blow sent him reeling backwards to land with a crash on the wooden floor, beside the cooker. His head hit the ground hard, cracking the skull. He struggled back to his feet, his vision slightly blurred and head reeling from the concussion. He picked up his chair and leaned heavily against it for support, his breath shallow and painful from the force of the old man's blows. He was truly scared to death now- his father had never been quite this violent before..._

* * *

Murdoc scowled and quickly put the thought out of his mind. He had no time to be wallowing in unpleasant childhood memories when there was a thoroughly annoying troubleshooter to deal with once and for all. Not to mention the added bonus of doing away with the equally troublesome young woman behind him. He would feel better once those two were properly blown to bits.


	7. How to Save a Life

Almost four hours had passed, and Jack was still unable to make any connection between Murdoc's cryptic statements in the video. He looked over at MacGyver, pacing frantically in front of the window, and then at Pete and Nikki examining the paper bag and its contents, which lab analysis had determined to be plain sugar cookies with no added poisons. At the sight of them a thought began nagging at the back of Jack's mind but he couldn't place it.

Penny ran in with a printout, slightly out of breath. "This was all that could be found on Murdoc's latest whereabouts," she panted. "I'm afraid it's not much."

MacGyver hurried over, practically snatching the paper from her hand. "Oh, great. Great. Just _perfect_!" Pete, Jack and Nikki joined him to take a look themselves. "Look at this! Here's his rental contract. Not under his name, of course, but the description the landlady gave matches him. It looks like he wasn't wearing a disguise. No reports of him any time before that."

"A rental contract. What does that have to do with anything? It's not against the law to have an apartment, I don't think," Penny remarked. "Wait! That might be where she is! Let's go!"

"Not so fast, Penny. We know Murdoc's not that obvious. What's bad about the contract is that it's almost a month old. He's had enough time to set up anything he pleases," Pete replied. "He could have it booby-trapped, for all we know."

Nikki glanced down at the address. "Mac, isn't that the address of the apartment complex across the street from yours?"

MacGyver turned pale, practically falling onto the couch in shock. "Oh man..." he whispered. "That means he's been spying on us for at least a month, and I didn't even know it. Eavesdropping, watching us through binoculars. Waiting until Becky was completely alone before making his move. Oh, sweet princess, where are you? What has he done to you?" He buried his face in his hands.

 _World...sweet...nose...cookies._ All of a sudden things seemed to click into place in Jack's mind. _Could it be he's got her where I think he does?_ His eyes widened at the memory, and quickly turned to the rest of the group, practically jumping up and down in his excitement. "I got it! I know where she is! I know where Murdoc took Becky!"

Everyone looked at him in surprise. "Globe Cookie Company! It's a cookie factory that closed down about three years ago," the pilot explained. "I poured every penny I had into it because it made the sweetest sugar cookies in America, but it busted out on me pretty soon after. The factory's been abandoned ever since."

"Where is it?" Mac asked, quickly rising from the couch.

"Well, just outside the city. Kinda off by itself, ya know?"

"Let's go!" said Pete. "We can't be that far from the city limits, we'll get there in plenty of time."

"Well, that might be a hard trick to pull off. You're right about the city limits, but-"

"But what?" MacGyver nearly screamed. "We've only got two hours left!"

"But we're on the wrong side of the city. It'll take over an hour to get there." The pilot turned to face his friend, but all he got was a glimpse of the back of his head. Pete and Jack looked at each other, then hurried after him.

The women watched the men leave. "Gee Nikki, do you think MacGyver can rescue Becky in time?"

"I hope so, Penny. He'd walk through the fires of hell for her if he had to, or for any of us. We can only pray it's the last time he'll ever have to deal with Murdoc again."

* * *

Murdoc smiled grimly at the image on one of the monitors of the familiar brown jeep approaching the factory. "It's about time you got here, MacGyver," he muttered to himself.

"What did you say?" Becky never considered herself brave, but she wanted to know all of what he was planning to do, just so she might have a hope of somehow wrecking part of his plan. She didn't have a clue, of course, but still she felt she had to do _something_ to help Mac.

"Why should I tell-" He rounded on her with fury in his eyes, but apparently chose to scare her with words instead of fists. "I said, your uncle has finally decided to join our little party. Now, would you like to watch him try to solve my obstacle course and die horribly in the attempt, or would you prefer I save your precious feelings by leaving the video monitors off?"

"You're a monster."

"You're quite welcome, Miss Grahme."

* * *

"Beautiful. He could have God-knows-what waiting in there for you, MacGyver. That factory's as big as a castle," Pete said as they crossed the bridge spanning the river, staring at the broken-down building looming through the jeep's windshield.

"Yeah, just the creepy kind of place Murdoc would use for something like this," Jack added. "If I wasn't sure that's where he was keeping your niece I wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole, Mac."

"Guys, it doesn't matter to me what he has in there. Nothing will keep me from Becky. _Nothing._ No twisted trap of Murdoc's gonna stop me from finding her and getting her outta there." Mac parked the jeep at a safe distance from the building, then practically jumped out and ran towards the entrance, with his friends close behind. He only paused when they came to an old movie poster attached to a fence nearby, which advertised the world premiere of _Casablanca_. It was an odd place to find such a thing, but by its very presence the men knew they were at the right location.

"Movie posters! Could be worth some money," Jack said. Mac shared a long-suffering glance with Pete as yet another get-rich-quick scheme obviously played around in his mind. "What's that stamped on it?"

"Admit one. He knew I wouldn't come by myself. You guys get out of here. Go get the cops." Mac watched his friends go back to the jeep, then took a deep breath and went inside, preparing himself to fight to the death for Becky.

His heart sank when he saw all the different doorways and halls that opened up before him once he stepped inside. There was also a baseball and Becky's favorite purple hair scrunchy on the floor. This one he deciphered immediately. _Three strikes and she's out,_ he thought. _But what exactly does he consider a strike? Murdoc must be able to watch me somehow, most likely through security cameras. Guess I'll just have to see what happens when he thinks I've made a mistake._

Mac looked at his watch. He had forty-five minutes to find Becky and get her out. He picked up the hair scrunchy, touching it briefly with his lips before tucking it and the baseball within his leather jacket. He then chose a hallway at random and began walking down it, his spirits brightening in a strange sort of way when he discovered a maze of laser beams stretching horizontally across his path. He never thought in his wildest dreams he would be glad to see one of Murdoc's traps but it meant he was on the right track. He stepped closer for a better look.

Lasers. Not terribly creative, but definitely hard to bypass without tripping something. He looked around for something to blind them with, and saw a door labeled "Mixing." Maybe they had left some flour or baking powder in there. He walked inside and saw a moth-eaten bag sitting on the floor. When he picked it up, flour spilled all over his pants and jacket. _Oh well,_ he thought. _A little dust never hurt anybody._

He approached the beams and, very slowly and very carefully, began throwing handfuls of flour in front of their sources, stepping above or below as needed. Finally there were only three more to go- he was almost through. He grabbed another handful of flour and threw it at the lasers, then felt a tickling in his nose. He tried to hold it in until he got past the lasers, but it was no use. He sneezed, dropping the bag of flour in the process.

It seemed to fall in slow motion as it hit the floor, setting off two of the remaining lasers. Nothing happened at first, and MacGyver thought hopefully that maybe Murdoc was just trying to scare him on that one. Suddenly he saw a flash of silver and hit the floor as an enormous dough cutter swung out from the wall, narrowly missing his head. He would have lost his scalp if he had been standing up, he realized.

Literally.

Mac took a deep breath. His heart was racing a million miles a minute, but there was no time to think about himself. An innocent girl, _his_ girl, might die if he did not find her soon. He kept walking, blindly guessing which way to go. He had never hated Murdoc so much in his life- what right, after all, did the assassin have to use Becky as a pawn in one of his twisted, sadistic games?

After turning more random corners, he encountered the second obstacle: an automatic transfer pump. But instead of conveying batter, filling or icing between receptacles, the machine instead siphoned up what looked like battery acid from a container and splattered it around the hallway with the force of a catapult; with a grimace he noticed the smoking stains on the walls, floor and ceiling.

MacGyver looked up at the blinking red light of the security camera; beside it was a sensor with wires trailing from it down to the pump. So Murdoc was controlling it remotely, watching his progress through the camera. Shivers ran down his spine. He hated being watched by the assassin, knowing how scared he really was.

 _Yeah Murdoc, I hope you're getting an eyeful,_ he thought sourly. _Just you wait 'til I find you and put you away for good. No one harms my princess and gets away with it!_

Mac turned his mind back to the problem at hand. He reckoned there were three solutions, maybe four. One, find something to neutralize the chemical, render it harmless. Two, get past the spraying acid to the wires and cut them, stopping the machine. Three, bind up the lever that controlled the transfer. Four, disable the sensor. Keeping well out of range, the troubleshooter considered his options.

He could retrace his steps to where he found the flour, for baking soda would neutralize the acid. But that would take too much time, and he honestly could not recall every twist and turn he had made so far. So the first idea was out.

Unfortunately the wires from the sensor were on the other side of the machine, far away from his reach. Based on how far and fast the acid was being thrown he would have a heck of a time dodging the spray long enough to get past to the wires without getting covered in the stuff. Number two was, therefore, also out.

The other two options, Mac realized, might be more effective together. But he needed a way to bind the lever, as well as something to throw at the sensor. Frowning in thought he absently stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket, eyebrows raising when he found two items in particular; he pulled them back out, finding in one hand the baseball, another the purple hair scrunchy. The baseball to disable the sensor, the scrunchy to bind afterwards? _Might as well give it a shot._

He moved the ball to his right hand, carefully aiming it while keeping the other eye on the machine's movements. He had to time it so the sensor was disabled before the pump's lever tripped and discharged the acid. When it was time Mac threw the baseball, knocking the sensor out of commission, then quickly wrapped the scrunchy around the lever, hooking a loop around a nearby- thankfully stationary- handle. There was just enough time while the machine was struggling to complete its cycle for him to hurry past. He was well out of range before the scrunchy's elastic finally snapped; the resulting force of its throw was violent enough to overbalance the machine, causing it to topple over with a loud crash and spill the deadly contents.

Mac shook his head as he returned to his search, smiling ruefully. _Guess I'll have to buy Becky a new scrunchy, unless she decides to have a shorter haircut for the summer._

* * *

"How long has MacGyver been inside, Pete?"

"About five minutes since you last asked me that, Jack. Which means it's been half an hour." Pete looked at his watch, then picked up the jeep's phone. "I'm calling the police."

"Better call the fire department too, knowing Murdoc's preference for explosives," Jack added, glancing at his own watch. "I sure hope Mac finds Becky soon. He doesn't have much time left, and it's a pretty big place."

"Yeah Dalton, you don't need to tell me that twice." Pete punched in 9-1-1.


	8. How Can I Keep from Singing

Finally MacGyver encountered the third obstacle: a set of bars, almost like a prison door, running vertically the length of the hallway. As he walked closer to the bars he noted a keypad set into the wall to his left; obviously there was some kind of code to be entered before the bars would lift. When he approached the keypad a second set of bars suddenly shot down from slots in the ceiling, not more than two feet behind him. He was trapped, and there was no way to escape otherwise unless he started entering numbers. But which ones?

Mac shook his head, impressed despite himself at the assassin's thoroughness. Murdoc really had him here. But he had to get through, there was no other choice; heaven only knew what might happen- to Becky or to himself- if he failed.

He racked his brain for appropriate number codes, knowing the assassin's tendency for drama and symbolism in his traps. The display was set for six digits, entered two at a time; for some reason their spacing made him think of calendar dates- month, day, year. _Well, why not?_ He tried his own birthday first, just for the simple fact that it was something to do with him: 01-23-51. He heard a buzz, then Murdoc's voice come from the intercom on the other side of the room. "Strike one, MacGyver. You have two more chances, or the next bullet just might not miss her forehead." He winced, hearing Becky cry out at the sharp crack of the gun.

* * *

"Miss Grahme, if you insist on screaming, please wait until I turn off the speaker. You'll only make him more nervous than he already is. And nervousness causes people to make errors," Murdoc sneered at Becky.

"Uncle Mac won't mess up! He'll get here! He'll rescue me, then put you away where you won't be able to hurt anyone ever again!"

"Your eternal optimism is touching, my dear, but I seriously doubt that. And don't contradict me again." Her face stung with the force of his slap for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. "This is the one time your hero will not come out on top. I guarantee it."

Becky began to sob- not because he had hit her, but rather out of fear. She was so very afraid. She didn't want to die, but not for a selfish reason. If she did, her uncle would truly be all alone, and she couldn't do that to him. She loved him far too much to ever want to hurt him that way. She vowed to live through this, no matter what else was done to her.

Even shackled as she was- as weak and harmless as he was making her feel at that moment- she still wished something could be done to put Murdoc away for a _very_ long time. _Dear god,_ _I wish I could wake up and know this has been just a terrible nightmare. Please, Uncle Mac. Please come and get me. Let's be rid of him once and for all._

* * *

MacGyver entered the second set of numbers he could think of- the date that he first ran into Murdoc and met Pete- hoping with all his heart that this would be the code that lifted the bars: 03-02-80. His face lost all remaining color when he heard the buzz again. "You don't listen very well, do you? You have one strike left, or I kill her."

* * *

"You won't kill me," Becky insisted. "I'm worth too much to you."

"Oh, you aren't worth anything to me. The only thing I'm after is to see MacGyver suffer. And believe me, he _will_ suffer, with you dead or alive." With those words, he cocked the gun and left the room, leaving Becky terrified and alone; silently she prayed that her uncle would as always do the impossible and succeed.

* * *

MacGyver was not sure if he could continue, he was shaking so much from fear. Murdoc had hit his only weak spot, found the single most important thing in his world that could do him the most damage. It was personal this time. He had one more chance, or the one person he loved more than his own life would die.

 _Die..._ It hit him. He knew that this number would be, _must_ be, the one that would unlock the bars. He hurriedly punched in 08-10-86, the date of the car accident that killed his sister, brother-in-law and nephew. _Oh princess, I hope you can forgive me in heaven if I'm wrong._ But he heard a soft hiss as the bars finally lifted. He rushed through and around the corner, but stopped in his tracks as the assassin stepped forward, gun in hand and flashing a nasty grin.

"Congratulations for solving my obstacle course, MacGyver! But when will you finally get the message? You _won't_ win this time. And I mean that." Murdoc pointed the gun at his head, but Mac kicked it out of his hand, causing it to fall and slide across the floor. He grabbed Murdoc by the collar of his shirt.

"What made you think for one minute that you'd get away with harming my niece? She's done nothing to you! It's me you want."

"I'm a smart man, MacGyver. And so are you. If you want something bad enough, you'll do anything to get it. I want to see you on your knees begging for your life, as well as darling Rebecca's."

His statement filled Mac with such a rage as he never thought possible to have, but somehow he managed to control it. He settled for hitting Murdoc as hard as he could, sending him reeling back. "Never! You won't see me beg for anything. You won't see anything except the inside of a jail for the rest of your life."

The assassin smiled coldly as he touched the bruised spot. "I didn't think you had it in you, MacGyver. You must really care for your niece to be so violent. But you won't be much good to her if you're laying unconscious on the floor." Murdoc struck back at him and they went to wrestling on the floor.

Finally Mac hit his nemesis as hard as he possibly could; Murdoc slumped to the ground completely unconscious, nose bleeding. The troubleshooter cradled his right hand in his left as he slowly stood up. "Aw man," he muttered, "every darn time I do that I think I break my hand."

Wearily he stood up and looked around. Another labyrinth of hallways stretched before him, and he didn't have any more time to waste. He hurried to a nearby intercom and punched the button. "Becky? Can you hear me? This building is huge. I need to hear your voice so I can find you. Sing for me, please!"

* * *

Becky was overjoyed to hear what was surely the most beautiful voice in her world at that moment. She couldn't reach the intercom to acknowledge his request, but could still comply. Thank goodness for her choir training, which had taught her how to effectively project her voice. She knew exactly what song to use, too.

 _Okay girl,_ she thought. _Just like Mrs. Avery taught you- stand up straight, chest out..._ Even weighted down with the chains, she still managed to stand on rubbery legs, breathing painfully through bruised ribs from when Murdoc had hit her the last time. _Take a deep breath..._ She coughed up blood and carefully wiped it off her mouth, wincing when her hand brushed against the tender flesh on her face. _And remember to project._

She began, but her voice was way too soft. She coughed up and spat out more blood, stood up as straight as she was able, and tried again, this time louder and clearer than before. Feeling encouraged, and not caring whether Murdoc heard or not- heck, if the whole wide world heard or not- she put all the energy she had into belting out the words, seeking only to reach one particular set of ears.

* * *

MacGyver dashed around a corner, then stopped as he heard, very faintly, Becky's voice. He continued running, and gradually it became louder. At one point it was clear enough to be recognized as the song she sang at graduation, and ran even faster until he stopped at a door. A quick scan showed no booby traps attached, so he threw it open.

His heart broke when he saw his niece with shackles attached to her wrists and ankles, singing through the tears, blood and bruises on her face. _Oh god, what did he do to you? How could I let this happen?_

Her head snapped up as he came in and she stopped singing, eyes widening at the blood on his face and flour-smeared clothing. "Unc, are you okay? You look awful!"

Mac hugged her as hard as he could through her bonds then pulled back, long fingers gently cradling her face, trying to wipe the blood off. "I'm fine, Becky. But you don't look so good yourself." He brought her close to him again. "I'm so glad I found you, sweetheart. I thought you were..." He shook his head, unable to say more.

"I wanna get out of here," she cried against his chest. "I wanna go home!"

"That makes two of us. Let me see what I can do to get those off of you first." He looked down at his watch; less than ten minutes remained to free Becky and get out of the factory before Murdoc played his final trick. _And knowing him it's bound to be explosive,_ Mac thought. _Better get to work._ He knelt by her side and pulled out his pocketknife; after some creative lock-picking she was finally free of her chains. She moaned softly in relief as they dropped to the floor, and he winced in sympathy at the livid red welts encompassing her wrists and ankles.

"Thanks," she whispered, reaching to kiss him on the cheek.

"No problem." He smiled, squeezing her hands gently. "Let's get outta here, what do you say?" She nodded her agreement and they turned towards the door.

"Isn't it rude to leave a party without saying good-bye to your host?" The assassin stood before them with a large bruise above one eye and a swollen nose.

"Murdoc? But you were-"

"Ah, yes. Just like you, I'm not that easy to kill. I must admit I've enjoyed our little get together, but all good things must come to an end. And this is yours." He charged towards them, Mac pushing Becky out of the way right before the assassin crashed into him.

* * *

Her body aching from assorted cuts and bruises and mind reeling, Becky watched in shock as ultimately Murdoc got the upper hand during their struggle, knocking her uncle down with a blow to his face. He cocked the gun and aimed it. "Now I intend to finish what we started several years before. Say farewell to your niece, MacGyver."

 _No,_ she thought in panic. _I can't lose him now!_ She dashed in between the two men before he could shoot, her arms stretched out to either side in a defensive position.

"Don't you _dare_ touch him!" she shouted. "You'll have to kill me first before you get anywhere near him!"


	9. Escapade

Murdoc stared down the barrel of the gun at the petite young woman glaring at him with wild and frightened eyes, the expression on her face made up of equal parts determination and fear. It was a look he had seen somewhere before. That stance...her face...Ashton. She was defending her uncle just as his own sister had defended him from his father, on that terrible night so very long ago.

* * *

 _The boy took a few steps away and found his back pressed up against the shelves of the antique hutch where his mother's good china and silverware were still kept. There was nowhere else to run._

 _His father rushed forward, intending to deliver the killing blow. The boy tried to move away in time, but ended up bumping into the hutch. Everything on the shelves came crashing down around him, sending shards of broken plates and utensils everywhere._

 _The dramatic noise stopped his father for only an instant. The boy felt a stinging from where one of the knives had scratched his shoulder but ignored it. Another one of his father's countless lessons: showing pain was a weakness that would not be tolerated in the family._

 _George's heavy boot smashed the already-broken teapot on the floor. The boy saw that Ashton had retreated to the corner by the dustbin, out of the line of fire. She was sobbing. Father and son circled each other warily._

 _His father moved abruptly, the hammer flying through the air. The boy would have easily dodged the blow but his foot slipped on the debris. He lost his balance and staggered directly into the hammer's path. If his father had been able to complete the swing it might have killed him instead of only breaking a few ribs, but intercepting the tool before it gained full momentum saved his life. He grunted in surprise and pain as he found himself sprawled across the scattered shards and spilled silverware._

 _He couldn't move. He tried to draw in a breath to steady himself but he couldn't seem to fill his lungs. So he lay there uselessly gasping for air as his father staggered over to tower above him._

 _"Some things about life you gotta learn, boy," the old man growled as he retrieved the hammer. "People are all rubbish. The life of the average bloke ain't worth a pile of dung these days, and the only ones who're better off are already dead. Better to kill them off than let them live in this dungheap of a world- bomb their flats and houses, like the Jerries did during the war. You hear me, boy? Worthless rubbish, just like you." He raised his weapon and the boy cringed, fully expecting to die then and there.  
_

In a surprising burst of speed, Ashton flung herself in between father and son. "Don't you dare touch him!" she screamed with tears in her eyes. "You'll have to kill me first before you get anywhere near him!" His body pained him so much that the boy felt himself detached from what was happening. In a distant way the scene unfolding before him was funny- his tiny sister standing defiantly between him and the older, bigger and much stronger man holding the hammer.

 _"Outta my way, you worthless brat," their father growled. "Your brother's gettin' what's comin' to him." The boy's cries mingled with Ashton's when the old man struck at her again and again with the back of his hand. When George had finally finished venting his anger on the children, he grabbed a bottle of gin from a nearby cupboard and stumbled off to his bedroom, leaving brother and sister to comfort each other as best they could._

* * *

Two days later, Murdoc recalled, he and Ashton left home for good, sending her off to live with a distant relative away from the city while he took his chances on the streets. Even after so much time had passed he still could never bring himself to stop hating his father, especially for the events of that long-ago evening. Nor, in fact, could he ever forget the lessons George had forced upon him about the dark side of human nature, which had made it easy for him to turn to a life of crime and become a professional assassin.

But the more notoriety he acquired in the business the more his sister needed protecting, so he deliberately- even meticulously- removed any mention of himself from public records. In time he came to learn through his contacts her past trauma had indeed helped to suppress any memory of his existence. He had hoped that would be enough to discourage anyone from using her as leverage against him, but a few years ago HIT found Ashton and set her up as bait to trap him- which, ironically, required MacGyver's help in freeing her.

It was during that particular evening something important occurred to Murdoc. He still believed having his sister forget him was for the best, but in his heart he had never forgotten her, and balancing that long-ago pain and fear he had experienced at the hands of his father was the memory of that one time she had saved his life.

Suddenly he found himself reliving that moment all over again, thanks to the presence of the niece of his chief nemesis who stood defiantly in front of him, despite being battered and bruised. _J_ ust as Ashton had done so very long ago. _Oh, Ashton. Oh, my dear, sweet little sister..._

Murdoc dropped his gun to his side and looked at Becky painfully, caught up in memories. Mutely he watched as MacGyver rose to his feet and grabbed at her arm, trying to pull her out of the way. "What in heck do you think you're doin'? You're gonna get yourself killed. Get out of here before anything else happens to you. Don't worry about me."

She shook her head, holding her ground. "I won't leave without you, Unc," she said firmly. "Either we get out of here alive and together, or not at all. And he'll have to get through _me_ to kill you. I can be twice as stubborn as you."

"Ashton, he's right. This is our fight, and you should get out of here while you can. You'll only get hurt." The surprised looks on their faces as the words left his lips dragged him back to reality.

 _What am I saying? S_ _he is not, never has been, or ever will be my sister!_ _I_ _can't change the past; she's not here for me to protect anymore. Why can't I accept that?_

For a timeless moment the bloodied faces of both Ashton and Becky flashed before him as memory wavered between past and present. Finally, the present won.

He angrily shoved her to the floor and aimed once more at Mac. "Enough," he snapped. "More than past time to end this. Goodbye."

* * *

From her vantage point Becky watched the assassin for the second time threaten the life of the one person she loved most in the world, and again found herself acting without thinking of the consequences. She lunged for one of the manacle sets laying nearby on the floor then threw one end out, managing to wrap the chain around Murdoc's legs With all the strength that remained in her she gave a yank and he fell backwards, dropping the gun in his surprise. His head hit the floor, immediately knocking himself unconscious.

Suddenly the images on the bank of monitors blacked out, replaced by a 30-second countdown display as a programmed timer- connected to explosives placed around the factory- automatically switched on and his prerecorded voice came over the intercom. "Sorry, MacGyver. Guess I won this time after all. Your time is up, and so is hers."

Becky looked at Mac as he helped her up and he nodded. She quickly followed him through the door at the other side of the room, stopping on a landing platform at the top of a long flight of stairs which led down to the packing and shipping area. The room was gigantic, easily the length of a football field. From their vantage point the doors were too far away to reach in time.

Mac pointed to a huge glass panel at the other end, showing a view of the river below. "He probably has all the doors locked. Getting through that's our best bet outta here."

 _(28, 27...)_

"There's no way we're gonna make it down the stairs and across the room in time," she groaned. "We're doomed."

 _(25, 24...)_

"Don't think like that, Becky." She watched him scan for anything that could be used to bridge the distance, finally noticing directly above a length of stout cable that stretched all the way across the room at a slant, ending at the top of the glass panel. "Remember what I told you? All you need is a little faith." He stood on tiptoe and reached up a hand to the cable, fingertips barely grazing against it. "We need to hang on to something to get us down this. Any ideas?"

 _(21, 20...)_

Becky quickly cast her memory back through the past few hours, snapping her fingers when inspiration finally hit. She dashed into the control room and grabbed a short bar of metal and a thick plastic packing strap lying in a corner of the room. A quick glance at Murdoc showed he was starting to regain consciousness, so she wisely locked the door on her way out. "He's almost awake," she said breathlessly.

"Then we don't have much time." Mac smiled at the items in her hands. "That's perfect. Just what I was thinking of myself." He tied one end of the strap to the bar, threw the other end up and over the cable, and tied the dangling end to the metal as well- an improvised zipline trolley.

Becky's face paled as she looked first up at the cable, then down at the hard concrete floor. "Unc, you know I hate heights as much as you do. Are you sure it'll work?"

He turned and gently cupped her cheek. "No, sweetheart. I'm not. But I don't see any other way we could get outside quick enough. I don't like it either but just hang on and trust me, okay?" She looked down at the ground again, swallowed audibly, and nodded.

 _(14, 13...)_

There was a loud pounding on the door. She turned, seeing Murdoc's enraged face through the office window. "MacGyver, I'll get you yet! You won't get away from me!"

"He doesn't know when to quit, does he?"

"Nope." The troubleshooter whipped off his jacket to use as a shield for the window, then grabbed for the trolley. "C'mon, Becky! Let's go!"

 _(10, 9...)_

The assassin chose that moment to ram the door with his shoulder. Wood and glass broke around him as he charged through towards them. Becky yelped, lunging to grab her uncle around the waist. She hung on for dear life as the momentum served to propel them over the edge and down the cable, practically flying across the gigantic room. Heedless of his own safety, Murdoc leaped for her...

 _(8, 7...)_

And missed. He dove head first from the platform to the ground, screaming Mac's name as he went.

 _(6, 5...)_

Becky turned her head away from the awful sight, only to hide it again behind her uncle's back as they rapidly approached the huge window. She braced herself for impact.

 _(4, 3...)_

Glass flew as Mac let go and the two sailed into the water below. They came back up to the surface and held each other tight, their bodies shaking with shock and exhaustion as the building promptly burst into flames.

"Hang on, Beck," MacGyver said as fiery debris landed on the water around them. "Just hang on to me. I gotcha. Try to stay awake."

"Can't," she groaned. "So tired. Wanna sleep..."

"Me too, sweetheart. But we gotta stay awake or we'll drown. C'mon..."

Becky tried treading water for a while longer but the water's chill and pain from her accumulated injuries made it hopeless. The last thing she heard before the darkness finally claimed her was a growing crescendo of sirens.

* * *

Thornton and Dalton watched in horror as the old factory quickly became engulfed in smoke and fire. As the police and fire trucks approached they searched the area for any signs of their friends, but found nothing.

"You think they made it out in time, Pete?"

"I sure hope so, Jack."

"Hey guys, over here!" MacGyver called from the river, waving to them with one free hand, while supporting an unconscious Becky with the other.

They raced towards the bank and waded into the water. "Man, are we glad to see you guys. We were half afraid you were done for when the fire broke out."

"Feeling's mutual, Jack. Give me a hand here?"

Fighting the water's strong currents, Pete reached for Mac's hand at the same time his niece was grabbed by Jack. The two men assisted them back to the bank, where four paramedics waited; Pete waved them over.

As one pair checked Mac out he watched the others as they placed Becky's limp form on a stretcher and took her vital signs. "How is she?"

One of them spared him a quick glance. "She hasn't regained consciousness, but otherwise no severe internal injuries. And those welts on her wrists and ankles will need to be treated and bandaged in case of infection." She nodded at her partner. "She's stable. Let's go." They loaded her into the ambulance and sped off.

"You could use a few days in a hospital bed, too," the paramedic examining him said. "Nothing serious, but the nose will have to be looked at."

Mac gingerly touched it and winced. "Guess you're right. Think they'll put us in the same room?"

"Don't see why not. Let's get you to the hospital."

Pete briefly touched MacGyver on the shoulder. "Jack and I will follow. Don't worry about a thing. We'll make sure the doctors take good care of you both."

"Thanks, Pete. See you later."

Pete and Jack climbed in the jeep as Mac was escorted into the back of the ambulance. "Yep," the pilot said, "a long rest in bed being attended to by pretty nurses sounds like a real good idea for him. He looks awful. Think we've seen the last of Murdoc?"

"I don't know, Jack. You saw how bad Becky looked? I wonder what he did to her. I hope she makes it."

"Hey, she's a strong kid. Strong as Mac himself. They'll both be okay. You'll see, Pete."

"I sure hope so." Jack started the jeep and they followed the ambulance to the hospital. It had been a long, tiring day and everyone was weary beyond belief, but all that paled in the face of two very important facts:

Murdoc was finally gone- or so both men fervently hoped- and their friends were alive and safe.

Nothing else mattered.


	10. If We Hold On Together

_Fire._

 _Fire and pain._

 _Fire and pain and cold, heavy metal around her wrists and ankles._

 _Fire and pain and cold, heavy metal around her wrists and ankles and a madman who kept hitting her in the face, no matter how much she screamed for him to stop..._

* * *

Becky woke up with a start. Her eyes flew open and she lunged upright in the hospital bed, her heart pounding from the nightmare-induced rush of adrenaline. At that precise moment the other occupant of the hospital room awoke, sitting up part of the way in his bed and leaning heavily on his elbows to look at her. "Beck, you okay?" he asked groggily.

She started, seeing him as if for the first time. "Unc? Is it really you? What happened to you? I had the most awful dream; there was a fire, and I couldn't move my arms and legs, and someone kept hitting me. It seemed so real." Then the memory became clearer. "Murdoc!" she gasped. Tears started to flow down her face as everything that had happened came back in an intensely painful flash.

Heedless of his own injuries, MacGyver quickly rose and came to her side. "Shhh, sweetheart. I've got you. Everything's all right now. He can't hurt you anymore." She felt herself relaxing as he held her close against him and stroked her hair, relieved that the nightmare was over for both of them. As her tears finally subsided she caught a glimpse of their reflections in the mirror over the sink across the room and almost didn't recognize their own faces, swollen and battered-looking as they were.

"Hey, look who's finally up!" Jack exclaimed as he sailed into the room seconds later, arms full of flowers; Pete, Penny and Nikki followed him, also carrying arrangements. They set them on nearly every available flat surface in the room and greeted the invalids with warm yet gentle hugs. "You two look like death warmed over," the pilot quipped. "Guess that's what you get for wanting to take a dip in the river, huh?"

Becky rolled her eyes at his teasing. "Thanks a lot for reminding us, Jack. We've definitely seen better days. I think we'll live, though."

"What about you, Mac? Are you okay? Your nose looks like it's broken," Pete asked his friend with concern.

"Probably is. Murdoc has quite a right hook."

"Speaking of Murdoc..." Penny paused, glancing at the others as if seeking approval or support. Jack stared down at his sneakers, Nikki's mouth set into a thin line, and Pete heaved a heavy sigh.

MacGyver guessed why they hesitated. "He _is_ dead, isn't he? Or did he get away again?"

"They searched the remains thoroughly, Mac. No sign of a body," Pete shrugged. "As usual."

Becky thought about the blaze and wondered what had happened to the assassin when the factory exploded. _He's an awful man but oh, what a horrible way to die- and twice, too. But now they're saying he didn't die? How can that be?_

"But that's impossible- he _couldn't_ have survived that fall to the floor, much less the explosion!" She looked to the others for confirmation, taking in their grim expressions. "You mean he'll be after us again?"

Mac nodded. "I'm afraid so. And next time he probably won't hesitate in killing both of us. He can hold a grudge for a _very_ long time."

"We'll all keep an eye out for him, Becky. I know it's not very reassuring, but that's the best we can do right now," Nikki added. "Hopefully the next time he shows up will be the last."

Becky groaned. "I hope he doesn't come back at all. I really don't want to go through that awful experience again any time soon."

Tears returned to her eyes at the memory of the ordeal and she felt MacGyver once more pulling her close. "Hey, don't worry about that now, huh? I promise I won't let Murdoc hurt you like that ever again." He kissed the top of her head. "I love you so very much, Becky," he said, voice choked with sudden emotion. "You're everything to me, you know that? Don't know what I'd do without you."

"Feeling's mutual, Unc," she admitted, a tightness forming in her own throat. "I love you so much too. I don't know what I'd do without you, either." She gazed up at him, seeing all the love and admiration she felt reflected back at her as he reached to gently caress her face.

A long, intimate silence followed. "Okay you two, enough with the mushy stuff," Jack said finally with an embarrassed laugh. "Looks like you need your beauty sleep. We'll see you guys later, okay?"

"You're right, Jack. It's time we went back to work," added Pete. "You're due a lot of vacation time, Mac, and I think you'll both really like what I managed to arrange as part of the bonus. Take care."

After more hugs the four friends departed. The nurse came in not long after, carrying a long white box under one arm. "Looks like you two have a lot of admirers. I've never seen so many flowers for one room before," she remarked. "And here's another one!" She set the box on the corner of Becky's bedside table and left.

She opened the box and looked at its contents in puzzlement. "Unc, do you have any idea who would give us _black_ roses as a get-well gift? There's no card with this."

The phone rang; she reached over to her table and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Greetings, dear Rebecca. How are you feeling this fine morning?"

"Oh, no," she moaned, dropping her head back against the pillows.

"What's wrong?" Mac asked. "Who is it?"

"Who do you think?" She held the phone out towards him.

"And greetings to you too, MacGyver." Murdoc's voice filled both of them with dread. "I enjoyed our little party, and I was sorry to see it end so...explosively. I hope you and your dear little niece like the roses. Enjoy your recovery while it lasts. I'll be back soon enough for another party. I know how much you both love surprises, so I guarantee our next get-together will occur when you least expect it. Just keep looking over your shoulders!"

Becky looked up at Mac as the phone slipped out of her grasp. "What do we do now?" she whispered fearfully.

"I don't know," he admitted as his arms closed around her. "But whatever happens, we'll face it together."

They held each other tightly as the assassin's maniacal laughter filled the room.

-The End-


End file.
